Harry Potter and the Dark Lord
by ZooeyGlass
Summary: My take on the seventh, and final, Harry Potter book. You've got to read it and please leave reviews.
1. The Daily Prophet

It was a thin, circular room, filled with cabinets; the walls were peppered with parchment that were scribbled with words here and there, a few shone brightly with red ink, while others were a light periwinkle blue sang sweetly to the wind. Sitting behind an elevated mahogany desk, was a tall middle-aged wizard, who was writing swiftly on a small piece of parchment; there was a loud knock on the door.

"Get in here if you're coming," Screamed the wizard, taking his wand out and violently jabbing the parchment to make it seal. "I said come on."

The door opened quickly and standing there was a stout woman, with bright blond hair. She looked rather like a man; her hands were thick and her jaw was set heavily under her lip line. She was wearing bright acid green robes and there was a slightly malicious smile on her face. Behind her stood a small fat man, who was holding a camera, he looked shocked and seemed as if his mouth had been magically sealed together.

"Barney," Screamed the woman in excitement, even though her face was empty. "Barney, darling. How have you been?"

She sat down in a frail wood chair opposite the desk, and threw the guffawing photographer a menacing glance and a motion to sit in the corner. Barney looked neither excited nor angered by the woman's abrupt entrance to the office. He, however, looked her over surreptitiously before smiling.

"Hello, Rita," He said, taking another piece of parchment out of his pocket and writing something on it. He handed it to her and then motioned for both her and her photograhpher to leave his office. Rita neither stood nor left, and she called the fat photograhpher back into the office. There was an offended look on her face, as if Barney had just spat in her face.

"I remember a time when I was ushered into this office," Rita said jokingly, but it was clear that she was angry at her quick dismissal from the room.

"That was when you were making me money. You're as helpful now as a first year from Hogwarts."

"I wrote that story on Dumbledore didn't I? That was a good story," She said in a matter-of-fact type tone. Barney laughed out loud, his face was still cold. "What? What are you laughing for? It was a good story!"

"It was Rita, it was a good story, but did it sell? No. No one wants to read about Albus dying, I thought you should have known that, I guess that year you took off really hurt your skill."

Rita was silent still. There was a hurt look on her face, the light from the tall window shone on her face and for a moment it looked like there was a tear coming from her left eye. She wiped it away resolutely and then opened the piece of paper he had handed her.

"'New Wand Maker Moves In.' that's a page seventeen story. Give me something good, like in the old days."

"Find something," Barney screamed at her. "You used to be the best investigative journalist I had, go out find a story. Interview Harry Potter again."

She looked as if there was nothing she would rather do, and Barney let out another telling laugh. "That's the old Rita coming out. I saw that gleam in your eye, go ahead Rita, go after him again. Get something really good on him; see if you can't see how he feels on Rufus Scrimgeour."

Rita moved tightly in her seat; there was a look of utter disgust on her face, her nose was flared like she had just smelt something rather foul. Her voice, nonetheless, was cheery when she said, "Have there been any more killings? Maybe I could do something on that."

"Hestia Jones has already been covered, bit of a good story. The Death Eaters waited for her in her house and used the Cruciatus Curse until she hemorrhaged from the inside out. The Auror Dawlish was murdered a few ago, some are saying by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Now Rita you mustn't tell anyone this, I'm not supposed to know but the Minister thinks it best for me to know that I shouldn't know. Last night Bertie Higgs was taken to St. Mungo's, he had been attacked by some type of large snake, not to mention the fifteen more Dementor attacks there have been. It's a sad time to be a wizard," He said this all in a low and very solemn voice.

An eerie silence had filled the room. The fat, little camera man stood quietly in the corner his mouth still closed, his eyes were eager for more, his hands shaking to take a picture of this odd moment.

Rita eyes had flashed several times during Barney's story. She seemed to be taking it all in for later use.

"Of course that is neither here nor there," He said with a fake smile. He had taken there utter eagerness for sadness, and wanted to change the subject quickly. "So Rita will you do it? Will you write an article on Harry Potter?"

Once again Rita winced and moved slightly in her seat, but almost immediately a look of steely determination appeared on her face. She looked at him and said yes in a small tone.

She got up then and violently called for the photographer to follow behind her, as she reached the door she called back to him, "What is the Ministry going to do about all of this?" She said after pulling out a small quill and a pad of paper.

"They've got some new plan." He says before motioning for her to close the door behind her.

Barney then took out his wand and tapped the small piece of parchment, causing it to unfold magically. He then wrote in a very small slanted writing.

_To the Minister from Barnabus Cuffe _


	2. Draco's Reward

As the ink dried on Barnabus Cuffe's letter, a small gust of wind came through the open window of the oldest home on Spinner's End. There was a small, thin, wiry man who sat in the room. He shivered as the wind reached him; he was an odd looking man. His eyes were too small for his face and were an odd olive color that made them both innocent and ugly at the same time. It looked as if he had lost a considerable amount of hair, mostly in the middle, and there were lines of age underneath his eyes. By far the oddest thing about his appearance was his right hand, which shone bright silver, as if it was reflecting the very moon that shone outside so brightly.

There was a violent knock on the door. He neither moved nor seemed to hear the knock, he continued to poke his thin wand at the bugs that scurried past him on the floor, letting the occasional rat past him unharmed. Another knock came from the door, however, this time he jumped at the sound of the knock, which had grown in noise. He looked over to the wide door, as if waiting for someone to come from it.

The thin man still did not move as the door was knocked upon for the third time, this time more softly, but still with a swift sense of urgency in it. Once again he stared at the door, like he had never seen one before.

"Wormtail, you insolent fool," Came a cold drawl from a sallow looking man. He had greasy hair and was wearing dark black robes that swished silently as he walked past him. Wormtail looked up, disgust engraved in every fiber of his odd face. "The next time the door is being knocked on, open it!" He added as he finally reached the door and opened it halfway.

There were three people standing there; two women and a young boy. The first woman had a long, gaunt face and heavily shadowed eyes. There was a slight maniacal smile on her face as her dark eyes looked upon the man who had opened the door. The other woman had a softer face, her delicate face was full of woe and concern, her bright blond hair shone perfectly in the moonlight. The boy's face was badly beaten, in fact, his entire body had a beaten look. His robe, emerald green, was ripped in many places and both of his eyes were black, which went well with the bright blood stains around his chin and cheeks. His nose was the worst of all, it had been broken, in what looked liked, seven different places.

The man who had opened the door looked down at the three of them and then opened the door for them to enter. He then saw that the boy was not walking, he was being carried by the two women. They took him past Wormtail, who was playing on the floor without much care for his surroundings. The man took a seat in a tall chair and drew from his pocket a wand. He conjured two chairs, which magically surrounded him. There was a grave look to his him.

The women had returned.

"Thank you for taking us Severus," Said the blonde woman. She still seemed incredibly sad, her eyes turned towards the door they had taken the boy through, a sick sound of coughing came through the room.

"Yes, thank you," Said the other woman. There was an adoring sound in her voice and she seemed happy to be in the man's home. "I have been meaning to visit you Severus but the Dark Lord has had me tracking down that damn Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"I am glad to see you both, Narcissa—" He said tipping his head toward the blonde woman. "—and you Bellatrix—" He said tipping his head toward the other woman. She smiled at him again. "I am, however, angered to find Draco—"Said Snape edging his head toward the door where the boy was now silently sleeping.

"Aren't we all," Answered Bellatrix. "Don't you know what happened? Surely, the Dark Lord would have told you, his _most trusted_ confidant." This time the smile was gone from her face, she seemed no longer happy to see him, but more happy to throw this last statement at him.

"The Dark Lord did that?" Snape said in a silent tone. There was nothing on his face that said shocked and his voice had been casual, but his manner seemed more an indicator that this piece of news had been a true shock to him.

Narcissa still sat silently, she was still looking sadly at the door that Draco was lying behind.

"Yes," Said Bellatrix, a malicious tone in her voice. Her once adoring smile had faded and she now seemed happier at the fact that she knew something he didn't. "How funny, I thought you were the Dark Lord's favorite. Things do change, I suppose."

Snape turned away from the woman. This was clearly not the answer she had expected; her face turned a sallow white. He was now staring blankly at Narcissa. He asked her how it had happened.

"As you know, after the incident at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord ordered Draco to go to the house in Little Hangleton, I, of course, joined him. Draco was never happy there, he said that he was angry to be away from home, but I knew it was really that he was afraid of what the Dark Lord would do. He showed up last night with Fenrir Greyback and he began to attack him with spells, saying that he had failed; the worse was Greyback's assault. He savagely beat on him, no bite though, thank god! Then he turned to me after Draco had passed out and said that it was Draco's reward for such loyal service," She paused and wept into her hands. There was look of sadness so personified in her face that even Bellatrix looked angered. "I took him then and came here. Bella met us on the way."

Snape looked shocked by the entirety of the story, had he expected something else? He opened his mouth several times but said nothing.

"The Dark Lord has never been so angry," Bellatrix interrupted with quickness in her voice. "I thought that Dumbledore's death would be a moment of rejoice but he seems more worried than anything else. Snape, do you know anything?" This time she really seemed interesting.

"I do not, Bellatrix," Snape said in snide tone. "I, unlike you, have not spoken to the Dark Lord since the night of Albus' death, in which he told me that I had done well to act and that I deserved a break," Bellatrix's eyes widened at this. Snape shook his head yes. "I have done that, but I am always ready to further serve my master, as are all of us."

"Of course," She said angrily, as if he had just questioned her allegiance.

"Draco may stay here, for a while, most certainly until he recovers, but I would ask you both to return to the house on Little Hangleton. The Dark Lord, I am sure, will want to speak with you both."

"Do you know what he is planning, I mean for Draco?" Narcissa asked, wrenching her head away from the door. Draco had gasped heavily a moment before.

"I do," Came a squeaky voice. Wormtail had apparently been listening to there entire conversation. He wasn't looking at them; instead he seemed to be talking to the rat that sat comfortably in his hand. "I always know what my master is planning, yes, they think that master has forgotten about me, but it was I who brought him back. It is I; above all others that helped bring back our Dark Lord. Still hiding he would be if it was not for me. The greasy one thinks that he is better than me, just because he killed Dumbledore," He paused and began to stroke the rat lovingly. "It is R—"

But what he said was muffled by a bright jet of red sparks. Snape's wand was pointing to Wormtail's mouth.

"Idiot," He said with a superior tone in his voice. "Don't mind him Cissy, Bella. His is the irrelevant babbles of a discarded helper."

They both got up then. There had been a tone of finality in his voice. They headed toward the door, after Narcissa looked avidly again at the door that her only son lay behind.

Snape shut the door, with a reminder to dissaparate only when they head left the village, "Safety precautions." Once gone he sat back down, Wormtail had left the room.

There was a look of utter melancholy etched in every pore of his face.


End file.
